Cerise and Jiamoth are presented with the dragonhealers' professional opinion on Jiamoth's prognosis.

When

There are 0 turns, 5 months and 6 days until the 12th pass.

Where

Dragon Infirmary, Southern Weyr

Dragon InfirmaryAn exceptionally large cavernous area is set aside for the dragons of the weyr to convalesce. Immediately adjacent to the ground weyrs, it provides some privacy for those pairs whose injuries require more silence and solitude for recovery. But there are also a number of dragon wallows here for triage and diagnosis; those with the worst injuries have the wallows nearest the open air exit reserved for them until they're well enough to be moved further in. Bins, shelves, and locked cabinets store all of the medicines and raw ingredients the dragonhealers will need for treatment, as well as things like blankets and 'medicinal whiskey' for the riders of the afflicted. A lettering system applied to the shelves above one lone desk hint at a filing system used by those who work here.

-- On Pern --
It is afternoon
It is 4:17 PM where you are.
There are 0 turns, 5 months and 6 days until the 12th pass.
It is the fifty-fourth day of Winter and 77 degrees. It is partly cloudy, but still warm and bright. Clouds have started to drift across the sky again. The jungles are almost dry.

Time tends to creep in the infirmary, particularly hours spent awake- which may be why many occupants prefer to spend as much time as possible asleep. Cerise doesn't have that luxury. Jiamoth's circadian rythyms are off, and with pain dictating her wakefulness, the greenling pair are conscious more often than not. They've been given pride of place near the front of the infirmary and haven't budged since being interred there, though Jia only fills a fraction of the wallow and has required props and cushions to support her. Silvery no more, she remains grey-tinged and though her paw is bandaged, it is crusted with drying ichor and fresh as well- every time she twitches or shifts, something beneath the linen is opened. Her moans are a frequent sound, though (in heartbreaking fashion) she really has done her best to try to keep them pitched low, not wanting to disturb other casualties. And Cerise? Cerise has yet to leave her side…and she smells it, too. The weyrling is in a rumpled uniform, brought to her by one of the others, and has taken a few bites to eat, a little to drink, but all of that has been done inside of the wallow where she's remained curled against her dragon's side. The close bond the two share shows in how often the young woman's own right arm is pulled to her chest in sympathetic pain, and the signs of shock she still exhibits, even now, in spite of having had no harm done to herself.

Just about every dragonhealer and dragonhealing trainee at Southern has been working in shifts since 'the killing' threadfall whipped through Keroon. It probably shouldn't be a surprise that some (if not all) of them look tired, weary, upset. And when Arianne arrives for her shift with a scant few hours of sleep under her belt, she's definitely no different. There are dark circles under her eyes, but she carries a grim faced look of determination along with a bundle of fresh clothing and a pitcher of klah when she arrives. It's at about this same time that Caelth ambles in towards the bowl to take up his position as sentry. Though he also stops and sticks his snout in every ground weyr and looks over every dragon in each wallow before stopping near the severely injured green weyrling to settle in and lower his muzzle to the ground so he can keep a special eye on her. "Cerise, sweetheart. I'll be taking over for the other dragonhealer on duty soon. But until we switch over, we're going to get you cleaned up and feeling a little better. It will help Jiamoth." Yes, she's stopped just in front of the new rider, sounding absolutely firm in her conviction that this is going to happen.

Numbweed is keeping the agony to a dull roar, which makes Jiamoth capable of acknowledging Caelth's arrival. He's never frightened her (at least that she can remember!), choosing to see him more as fierce (sooo fierce) protector as opposed to bloodthirsty crankyface. Pitched on her side, neck stretched to leave her head against the lip of the wallow, the thin membranes that cover her eyes slide slowly back so she can look at him with orbs almost as colorless as the rest of her. Her jaw lowers, teeth and tongue exposed, for a soft bleat that could be intended as a polite hello. The canals of her mind are dry, deserted; drought has come to Venice. And Cerise? Cerise has no interest in "clean" until Jiamoth's waters return. She's leaning back against the green's belly, arms folded and head pitched forward in a doze that has done nothing to leave her feeling rested. A single eye is cracked open. "…define better," she grates at the brownrider.

Caelth makes no noise, not wanting to disturb anyone. But he does reach out with his mind, offering the cool and eerily quiet darkness of his presence as a soothing anchor for her to latch on to. And separately, he barks out orders to one of his wingmates to bring a fresh kill that she can try to at least blood from for sustenance. Arianne flicks her eyes between the two dragons before nodding at her lifemate and then sitting down lotus style in front of Cerise. The picther of klah is set to one side and the fresh clothing rests in her lap. "You feel what she feels; she feels what you do. If you feel clean, even slightly refreshed, and in less pain - so will she, though to a lesser extent. We can go into a ground weyr for you wash up, and I'll scrub your hair for you. I have klah." she also holds up a vial of very precious liquid. "And fellis. Enough to dull the pain, but not put you to sleep, carefully portioned out by the Senior Journeyman Healer. Then we can discuss her permanent treatment options."

The dragonhealer's explanation is absorbed in silence. A muscle tics in Cerise's jaw, hinting that she might well be tempted to refuse, but a deeper breath from Jiamoth- one to swell her chest and belly out, lifting the weyrling- defuses whatever argument she might have presented. She swallows, hard. "Then we can discuss? So not until, in other words." The ex-performer is feeling none too charitable and is not above narrowing her eyes at Arianne for this little piece of blackmail. But it is for Jia and Jia is not urging her to stay, which means the weyrling reluctantly, creakily, gathers herself to stand up. "Should bloody well give that to her," she mutters as she clambers out of the wallow, speaking of the fellis. Unfortunately, that movement brings the smell with her as well. Old firestone, ash, sour ichor, curdled sweat…and fear. Delicious. "If she calls me," she also adds in warning, "I'm coming back right then. Even if it means running naked."

Arianne uses any and every means at her disposal to deal with stubborn riders. And since she knows she would do the exact same thing, it makes her a very crafty dragonhealer when need be. "I know, Cerise. She's in a great deal of pain. And if she needs you to come back out before you're cleaned up then I won't stop you from coming out. Caelth will be right beside her the whole time. And if anyone who isn't fully trained comes within a dragonlength of her, he'll snap his jaws at them and make sure she remains untouched." That, is a promise. She stands up then, setting leaving the klah where it is, but gathering the bundle of clothes under her arm and then offering her hand out to help the greenrider up. "I'm having some food brought in for all the riders staying here with their dragons. It'll be light and easy to digest. And Caelth has one of Serval's dragons getting a fresh kill to bring to Jiamoth. We also have butchered meat." A steady stream of information offered, while she leads the way to the nearest ground weyr.

Atmanth struts like nobody else can strut in from the Ground Weyrs.
Nika slides from Atmanth's neck and lands gently on the ground.

"I'm holding you to that." Cerise doesn't level that warning at Arianne- she aims it at Caelth, complete with pointed finger. So fierce! So feisty! It's enough to cause Jiamoth to give a soft chuff of almost-amusement, followed by a comment made in private. Whatever's said, it makes the weyrling mumble, "I'm allowed to be a prat right now," as she follows in Arianne's wake. Several glances go back over her shoulder until the green and brown pair are out of sight, the walls rising up around her to block them from view. Then? Then she switches to glaring at the brownrider who is thankfully tough enough to take it. And, oddly, being out of sight of her dragon means the floodgates opens on the babbling. "She'd fed right before the Gather. Not surprised her appetite isn't back yet, I mean, that'd be normal right? But a bit've blood, aye…that's good of him. He's good at this. She likes him. It's a good sign she can think about things like that, aye? She likes the fussing. Calls it being spoiled."

Nika is also returning to her post as a dragonhealer, only her own blue dragon is spending some time in the infirmary himself. And while not nearly as bad off as others here, the tiny woman has not left his side. Curled up against his stomach like she use to do during weyrlinghood. There has been no time for tears, or a bath, only enough rinsing to keep herself clean enough to not add to the infection rate (a rather high one), and as she rolls off the couch and wobbles to her feet her own weariness is apparent. There has been little sleep felt anywhere in the weyr, especially in this place with the moans and weeping. "S'okay Cerise." Yes, she's over heard the end of the conversation, "I promise. We know what we're doing." And for once, her soft little smile is anything but happy.

Caelth snorts, flicking his tail in Cerise's direction as if he's mortally offended by her fiesty threats. "He is nearly as protective of injured dragons and weyrlings as he is of me. As Jiamoth is both, she gets special treatment." Arianne has her voice lowered, because her brown has a reputation to uphold and everything. And she meets the glaring with equanimity, her lips curling up slightly into a tired smile. "That's good, Cerise. She needs you feisty." is murmured, while she goes about getting the hearth going so that water can be heated to pour into a basin. Wash cloths and clothing are set out, as is some soapsand. "It doesn't surprise me that she's not hungry. She she does need her strength right now, so blooding a beast every so often will be a must for her. And it is a good sign that she's cognizant of what's going on around her. You're both holding up very well. And we'll make sure you continue to do so." Nika's soft voice is immediately seized upon then, and of course Ari rushes over to her to try and wrap her arms around the bluerider comfortingly.

Cerise approves of Caelth's inclination towards protectiveness. If she's going to be forced to bathe, then someone needs to be right there to watch Jiamoth. In case she spontaneously breaks worse than she already has. "I'll make sure she drinks it down then," she says as she begins to pull at the buttons and laces of her uniform. There's a distracted note to her voice, likely some thought being put into how Jia really doesn't feel like taking anything in. But then distracted goes in a different direction, when Nika appears and promptly disappears into Arianne's arms. Cerise is not the hugging sort, so she lurks in the background, shifting from one foot to the other and eyeballing this strange bubble-free bluerider. "…s'not you folk I'm worried about. It's all the rest. Honest."

Nika only holds out an arm, hugs will happen later, for now her tiny hand wraps around Arianne's arm to stave her off. The age in her eyes cannot be hidden in these times, and she doesn't bother to try as she shakes her head, "There's work to be done." The brownrider may rank her in the wing, but it has left her to establish herself in the infirmary. "That includes our watching of them." A soft brow is lifted, as she moves away from Arianne to study the weyrling herself. "So, go clean up. Freshening up a bit will clear your head. And that will help when we start to talk to you." Soft and comforting, but the tone is laced with a soft order. "I'll keep an eye on both of them, so Arianne can go with you."

Arianne squeezes Nika's arm lightly, just nodding once. And since she was -in- the ground weyr setting things up before having run up to Nika, she heads back in there to continue setting up for Cerise to wash. She'll stay by the entrance, so that the greenrider has some privacy. "Nika, I believe, is the primary Dragonhealer looking after Jiamoth. I'm her assist for this case. So you don't need to worry. We also have G'deon we can consult with and Tilla. So she's in very good hands, we promise you." she assures, in a confident voice. Weary, but sure of it. "Is there anything in particular you want brought in for your own dinner? I have them bringing in soup and rolls. But…" Yes, it's inconsequential chatter. But she's saving the harder conversation until everyone is in the same room.

These are reassuring statements to hear- the intentions being stated, the team described. Separated of Jia, Cerise is also becoming aware of how she herself reeks and so there is some speed to her movements now as she withdraws into the guest weyr. Not to hurry through the cleaning process, exactly, but certainly avoiding dawdling. If there's one thing to be said for weyrlinghood, it has taught her efficiency in handling the fiddly bits of living- hair and pits and assorted creases are scrubbed while Arianne converses. Responses are short, clipped, likewise weary. But in the end, she emerges in fresh clothes, with curls wrapped in a terrycloth turban and skin glowing clean. The hollows around her eyes persist, the creakiness, but focus has returned as she moves to join the senior riders. "…soup's fine. Not hungry. Where're we doing this? Are you gonna make me take the fellis?"

In times like these every second should be accounted for and as Cerise slips from the room Nika pokes her head into currents of the less injured and with clucks and nods giving them a once over. And as she returns to the brown's side the weyrling returns. "Here is fine, unless you'd like more privacy." The question of fellis gets a slight dip of her head, "It might be a good idea, it'll ease some of your feelings of her pain and might make you think most clearly, but then it is fellis. The dose shouldn't make you foggy. If it seems like it is then I'll hold off on speaking to you regarding her injury." Her attention is drawn to the green's foot as she looks over the bandage.

Arianne holds up the vial for Nika's inspection, adding, "I had the Sr. Journeyman measure the dose so that it would ease pain but not induce sleep." She may be feeling huggy, but she hasn't lost her competence apparently. "Fruit juice masks the taste fairly well. The tropical variety down here better then redfruit juice." That's for Cerise. Caelth watches Nika's inspection carefully, as if following along so that he can assess the injury as well. Plus, he made a promise and he's keeping it. "I'll get you a chair, or you can sit nex to Jiamoth again. Whichever you'd like." she offers.

<Local> Jiamoth senses that: Atmanth's stingy smell of swamp decay is the first thing that enters. Gently the night sky falls and the hum of insects plays a gentle tune in the nights air, as stars blink into the sky. A steady strum of an old guitar as an old rocker creaks against an unfinished porch. « Mine is going to unwrap your bandage now, so they can look at it. Would be a lie to say it ain't gonna hurt, but the whole thing'll be a lot worse if you stay tense, it'll bleed more. Just breathe. »

Jiamoth, ever the lady, rolls her eyes towards Nika when the bluerider approaches. Her vocalized greeting is more grunt than her characteristic burble, but it's an attempt! Silence reigns as the dragonhealer zeroes in on the bandaging, however; the green can be seen tensing up as those ichor-crusted linens are sized up. Which, naturally, sends Cerise hurrying to her side again. But as the vote is two to one in favor of fellis, she does stop to take the vial from Arianne, trusting to the brownrider's description of its effects. The dose is uncapped and tossed back after she takes her position tucked against Jiamoth's chest, just behind her elbow. "All right. Let's hear it, then."

The ichor stains are looks at with some disgruntlement as Nika sighs heavily. "We can take off the bandage while the fellis is setting in. They need to be changed anyway so now is a good time to do it." She frowns over her shoulder at Arianne with a sharp nod. "Maybe it will be showing signs of improvement." Not the most uplifting of things to say, but the tiny dragonhealer inches up and taking the end of the wrapping begins the slow, and exceedingly gentle process of unwrapping the foot.

<Local> Jiamoth senses that: Caelth is a solid, steady presence. He's more… inky blackness and cold creeping fog. But he uses it as a buffer rather than to make anyone wet themselves as he'd normally want to do. It lurks around, ready for Jia to latch onto rather then tensing up physically. The chill of his mind a little numbing, in effect. « I watch. »

<Local> Jiamoth senses that: Jiamoth remains flat, the candles extinguished, the colors gone. Were she a lady in truth, she would be collapsed upon her chaise lounge, pale, translucent, in dire need of smelling salts. Instead, she falls against Caelth's supporting presence and tries to think only of the notes played by Atmanth, so like the tunes sometimes played in private by Cerise, when no one else is around to hear. « …it amazes me, » she murmurs to the two adults, « that we have so much ichor in us. Fascinating, is it not? » This is Jiamoth attempting to put a good face on things- and stiffening up in spite of herself as the first bolt of discomfort shoots up her limb.

Arianne is solemn, despite the faint smile she wears as a mask while working around the injured. "I'll get what we need, while you unwrap. Cerise, try and help keep her steady okay?" If it were her, she'd want to know how to help her lifemate. So she offers the opportunity freely to the weyrling greenrider. Her arms are soon full of new bandages, numbweed, redwort, and other items that the will need. "Hold the bandages, if you like. While I uncap the redwort and numbweed." Busywork is best, a brief nod given Nika before her eyes turn toward the wound being exposed.

<Local> Jiamoth senses that: Caelth approves of the brave face, brighter tendrils of… grey (because that's just SO cheery) mingling in with the black he exudes to curl around Jiamoth in cocooning fashion. « It is. » he agrees, in sibilant undertones. « Ichor, bone, muscle. I find it fascinating how we have a second stomach designed to process firestone.»

Busywork is best and Cerise will surely appreciate it later, when she's able to look back clearly. For now? For now, her mind is full of the buzz of discomfort coming through the bond shared with the dragon. After a moment of concentration, Jiamoth can be seen easing into a fair approximation of Not Stiff (but not entirely relaxed either). Cerise, on the other hand, is shivering a little as she accepts the bandages and keeps a close eye on the pair at their work. This time, she is not grudging in admitting, "Fellis was a good idea," in low tones to the healers. But then, they knew that it would be, didn't they? Jaw set, she makes herself observe as the bandage is peeled away. The sticky, crusty parts have her twitching but she maintains her stomach's sparse contents…for now. Behind all of them, the tip of Jiamoth's tail flicks this way, lashes that way, spending her agitation safely away from the central operation.

"It isn't right…" Nika tsks softly to herself as she continues to look at it, glances up briefly at Cerise, "Scores cauterize between. So something else must be going on. Okay, Jiamoth, I'm going to take the last bit off, the air might be uncomfortable for a second or two." And with that she pulls away the rest of the bandaging, and trained eyes follow ever inch of the wound. It is much easier to deal with when one can throw themselves into a work that takes so much concentration. Just a puzzle that needs to be solved. "Arianne…" She trails off pointing at the wound without touching. And then her eyes turn to Cerise, saddened her small smile returns, but her eyes only show concern. "Cerise, she'll live. If its treated well, and barring infection. But the foot itself, it is permanently damaged. The nerve…" Her eyes flicker back to Arianne.

Hearing 'it isn't' right' captures Arianne's attention immediately. "They do." she agrees, crouching down so she can see the wound properly. Caelth rumbles quietly, wrapping more protective darkness around the patient to help her remain calm while the healers and her rider spear. "It looks like the nerve was damaged. That's part of why the numbweed can only do so much to help." She elaborates on Nika's astute observation, keeping her eyes on Cerise as she backs up the information. "I only know of one way to help, so that the pain will recede eventually. But… Nika? I don't know how much information was lost between our times. If there's multiple options for something like this." She would much rather be safe and get as much information as possible, obviously.

There's only so much distraction Cerise can stand. Nika's observations, and Arianne's confirmation? That about does it for Cerise trying to maintain something like calm. That muscle begins to jump wildly in her jaw again as she flattens a hand against Jia's neck- more for her own comfort, than the green's. Jiamoth remains still, remains quiet and evinces very little surprise. Slowly, membranes ease over her eyes. "I didn't visualize fast enough," the human half of the pairing says of Between's effects. The fault clearly goes to Cerise, every drop of ichor dripping to the floor her responsibility. She jerks her chin half an inch higher and looks at the healers. "What's that mean? Nerves don't heal back?"

"Cerise. Cerise. I need you to breathe deeply." Nika moves away from the dragon to catch the weyrling's eyes with her own. "You did nothing wrong. Betweening before visualizing correctly would have been far worse. You did what you had to do. And you did it well. But panicing now wouldn't be what you need to do." She pauses to quietly breathe deeply herself, "You tense, she tenses more, she bleeds more." Another deep breath watching the girl before braking the gaze and turning to answer Arianne's question, "I can think of two…Letting it heal as it is, trying it. It would be painful at times, achy all the time, but still there. And there is little way to know how useful it would be. It may not heal though, and we'd have to revert to the second option anyway…" Turning half way through her explanation to offer her thoughts to Cerise.

"Hey, no. I won't have any of that. It was not your fault. It was our first threadfall, a full half a turn earlier then we expected. We were taken by surprise. You did what you had to. You -survived-, despite that tangle thread mess we faced." Nothing ruffles Ari's feathers like unecessary self blame. Well, except when she's doing it to herself. "Leaving it as is was the default, so it sounds like… right." She takes a deep breath, making sure that her brown has his part of things well in hand before speaking. "We can… we can amputate the paw from just a bit further back then where the injury is now. A clean cut. And properly cauterize the wound. There's still a big risk of infection, so we all have to be very vigilant. If that's the route we all decide on."

Cerise has to bite the inside of her cheek to make herself follow those orders. Stop. Breathe. Jiamoth's eyes remain closed, her own breathing a shallow but even process. The dragon is taking this a little better, though that might be simple exhaustion at work. Her rider absently, vacantly, scrubs her hand against velveteen hide and tries to follow the talk between the healers- until Arianne lays it out straight and stops her dead in her proverbial tracks. She stares at them, speechless, until Jia gives a raspy little croon. Flat as her mindscape is, the green is confident of something and she speaks for both of them: « As the little one says it is not right. I can feel it is not right. If it will never be right while there, perhaps it is better gone. I have wanted to lose a little weight. In the belly, true, but… » "Now is not the time, Jia," Cerise cuts in. "You wanna chop her foot off. How's that not gonna hurt her worse?"

<Local> Jiamoth senses that: Caelth sends a snarl through the cozy little link they're all twined in, a flash of red eyes appearing in the distant mindscape. « Did someone call you FAT? I will eat them. » She's still a baby dragon! Baby dragons are not fat.

<Local> Jiamoth senses that: Jiamoth remains quiescent under that flash, that ire. She is untroubled, if only because she cannot summon the energy to be otherwise. « No one has said anything but it is known, yes? I am not as other greens. And I shall be doubly not as other greens, now. But it is good. If I live then I will be all the more noteworthy. »

"Want is a strange word to choose in this particular situation, Cerise." Nika's no-nonsense attitude in the infirmary, "We want to help her to the best of our ability. As we said. There are two options. There are pro's and con's to both. Let it try to heal, see what happens. In the end this will mean a life time of painful movements. Not all the time. But painful. We have no way of knowing how useable the limb will be, but it will never be fully fuctional, and it may not heal at all, and we will have to take it off anyway." She shoots a glance at the brown, and the dragon herself. "The second option is to remove it now. A clean cut, where we can stop the inchor ourselves, a clean cut. Infection rates…" She trails off for a moment, "It will take a very long time to heal, even with no complications. Life will be much harder for her, trying to fly… I'd lean to the first, but the decision is yours." She stares at the girl for a moment, "And yours alone. You know what is better for her than she does…don't forget, she's just a baby." Finally she breaks, her face softening.

Caelth is outwardly calm, save the swirl of red in his eye that is pretty much standard fare for him. But it softens, and he just sighs out a breath. His rumble is discontent, but not directed discontent. Nothing that hurts a dragon makes him happy. "It may mean less pain in the long run. But, neither of us are going to lie to you about this. It is all going to depend on how it heals. You can take time to think about it. We will keep her as comfortable as possible no matter what." As if they could ever do anything less?

"How long?" That's all Cerise can think to ask, at first. She's no healer, and has no deep understanding of the forces at work here. Worse, her interaction with infirmaries can be counted on one hand through a hale, hearty lifetime and never for so serious an injury. Jiamoth might be tired enough for resignation- able to make light- but the weyrling struggles with it- especially as the realization strikes it is her decision. "How long until you know if leaving it is gonna work? If we wait, is she gonna be strong enough to handle…to handle it…coming off that way?"

"Before we know if it will heal enough to not amputate, or how long until we know how functional it will be." Nika's tiny hand reaches through her ugly cut hair, as she fights through the exhaustion of the day. She can't complain. Everyone is sleep deprived. "The first…A sevenday tops. We wouldn't let it get so bad she wouldn't make it through the actually proceedure. The second, turns. The healing process is a long one, and the physical therapy takes a while to work things out." The woman's jaw sets as she looks sympathetically at the ex-entertainer. "We'll give you some time to think about it. Do you have any more questions we can answer right now?"

Arianne nods in silent agreement with Nika's assessment of time, her eyes settling first on the small green. And then on her rider. "Caelth will be open to Jiamoth at all times if she has questions. Or questions from you to me, when we need to be elsewhere for other duties. And he will be here for any treatments, since Jia seems to respond well to his form of soothing." It's a little like an assurance and an offer rolled into one. "I can have one of the other weyrlings cart me up and down to my weyr if she needs him to stay here for now. I can crash in a ground weyr or a cot nearby. Whatever you both need, Cerise. We know this is difficult. Just know that whatever your decision, we will do our very best and she will make it through."

Cerise scrubs her hand over her face. "Nngh…a seven. All right. I'm not gonna say just- no, Jia, I'm not. Y'can't rush these things and if they think it's best t'wait, yer gonna wait, aye?" The Bitran is in full effect, brogue rolling rich and ripe off of her tongue- which is good, given how sharp the words themselves are. The accent softens them. "They're the healers and y'do as they say, mind me now. And mind Caelth." No argument is forthcoming, so the weyrling spreads her arms against the green's side and flattens herself to the dragon. Her head tilts to let her look somberly at Arianne and Nika, calmer now that she's decided. "If you've got anything that'll take the edge off for her, more than the numbweed, that'd be grand. I think we're gonna try to rest now. If that's all right."

Nika nods slowly, the decision made to wait. She glances sideways at Arianne, and offers a pull of her lips upward. "I'll be here too. As long as Atmanth is here, so you can go get some real sleep Arianne. One of us ought to at some point. I'll go when you get back, if you think Caelth would give me a lift." Then back Cerise. "You did well. Really well." Never one to hide her emotions, even when they aren't the happy bubbly ones she produces a wry smile, and then tilts her head in the direction of the other dragons. "There are others. Arianne, if you could wouldn't mind rewrapping her…I'll go look in on the bronze with the wing tear."

"Of course it's alright." Arianne agrees quietly. "And Caelth will be happy to give you a lift when it's your turn to sleep." Well, happy… okay not happy. But he won't complain. Which is probably as good as it gets. "Now, let's get that paw re-wrapped and some numbweed on it. And I'll see what else we can get to take the edge off." Busywork, until it's time to go pass out for a few hours.